


you did a number on me (but honestly baby who's counting)

by screamqueen18



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamqueen18/pseuds/screamqueen18
Summary: Craig’s fingertips brush over velvety softness, and he closes his eyes. This obsession with Jeffrey truly will kill him.
Relationships: Dean Craig Pelton/Jeff Winger
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	you did a number on me (but honestly baby who's counting)

He was really taken in by Jeffrey Tobias Winger the first time he laid eyes on him. This is the man of his dreams: strong, tall, and handsome. Six months and the symptoms he called “the Jeffrey Winger Flu” haven’t subsided. The tightness in his chest is worse, catching his breath has become a chore. It takes all his focus to make it go away just for it to come back like a wrecking ball smashing into his chest just by catching Jeffrey’s eye. 

Two years later and he has become an addict. When he feels Jeffrey's hand on his shoulder, his breath catches and his chest aches all the more. The blood droplets spatter the sink three weeks later, and he watches in resignation as a single rose petal falls onto the white porcelain. Craig’s fingertips brush over velvety softness, and he closes his eyes. This obsession with Jeffrey truly will kill him. 

\-- -- -- -- -- --

“The debate team, we really need…” 

There is a pressure building behind his eyes, and Craig tries his best to appear interested in what Annie says. The debate team is important for the school’s reputation, and a win would mean a new line on their school’s website of woefully short accomplishments. 

He blinks and realizes that Annie has finished speaking and is now staring at him expectantly. “And what are you proposing Miss Edison?” 

She beams at him, flashing an excited grin. “We need Jeff. But I haven’t been able to convince him myself, is there anything you can offer to get him to agree?”

Craig’s chest tightens at the mention of Jeffrey’s name, and the pressure behind his eyes only increases. “Of course Miss Edison, I’m sure I can think of something.”

“Great, thanks Dean!” The bubbly brunette bounces, making her way over to the door while smiling widely at him. “Let him know that practice is tomorrow at four.”

Craig nods as she leaves, waiting until she is out of the room before dropping his head into his hands. It seems as if everyone needs Jeff Winger.

\-- -- -- -- -- --

When he least expects it, it happens. The tension builds up in his chest, his insides rolling just from a glimpse of Jeffrey. Craig glances down, seeing a flash of yellow. He crumples the petal in his hand and walks away, looking at the floor as he makes his escape. 

As he dropped the petal in the trash, he collapsed in his office chair and put his hands over his head. There’s a knock on his door, and a tentative voice calling his name. 

“Dean?”

Craig straightens up and tries to look busy as Annie hesitantly enters his office. “Miss Edison, what can I do for you?”

“I- um- just wanted to see if you were okay… you know after… Chang.” Her voice lowers to a whisper and she avoids looking directly at him. 

He swallows hard, grateful that her gaze is still focused on the chair in front of his desk and not directly on him. “I’m fine Miss Edison, thank you.” _Lie._ “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I’m meeting the study group in a few minutes,” she explained, grabbing onto the straps of her backpack as she met his eyes. “You- you just rushed out of the cafeteria earlier and we were worried.” 

“Thank you Miss Edison, but I’m fine.” _Liar, liar, pants on fire._

“That’s what Jeff said….but I just wanted to check.” Craig’s mouth went dry at the mention of his name, and his chest twinged terribly. 

“Miss Edison-”

“Annie,” the brunette interrupted. 

“Annie, then.” Craig swallowed down the flower petals he felt creeping up his throat, clenching his fist under the desk as he fought the urge to cough. “Like Jeffrey said, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, but Chang is gone. And I’m okay.”

“If you’re sure….”

He waved her off as she made her way to the door, waiting until she was gone before resting his head back in his hands. _Fuck._

\-- -- -- -- -- --

Craig is used to being alone. He’s always been alone, always the odd one out. It’s been that way since his mother died back in high school. He’s used to it; it’s easier, especially now. Because now when he hears Jeffrey through the thin walls, there’s no one to question why he’s throwing up flower petals. No one asks why he spends most nights huddled over the toilet or sink (whichever one’s closer really), heaving until the only thing he can taste is soil and the flowers are flecked with his blood. 

He’s alone, and as he rests his head on cool porcelain as he hears the low thrum of Jeffrey’s music, he realizes that he wants it that way. 

\-- -- -- -- -- --

The wi-fi is down. He hears the grumbling of students as they pass by his office bemoaning the lack of internet. Craig gets it, he really does. His laptop is basically useless without wi-fi too, more work piling up each second that goes by without a connection. 

He sighs, gets up, and goes to find Frankie. 

He’s greeted by a cacophony of complaints and noise as he walks into the study room. Yes, he knows the wi-fi is down. Yes, he’s trying to fix it. It’s grating on his nerves. He’s dying and all they care about is their precious phones and internet. But it’s not like they know. 

“I’m dying,” he blurts out. His chest aches and he resists the urge to cough, swallowing down the flowers trying to creep their way up his throat. 

Craig looks into their shocked and horrified faces and his stomach rolls. “I’m kidding. But imagine how bad you’d feel for complaining about wi-fi if that were true. Now the real reason I came in here….” He placates them with an excuse about his tie, plastering on a smile and gesturing wildly as he leaves. Back in his office he locks the door and slumps against the wall. He’s fine, he’s fine. 

He doesn’t even try to stop the flowers this time. 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- 

The school board position is tempting, too tempting. Craig can’t willingly pass it up, even if it means labeling himself something that he’s not. But it comes with a hug from Jeffrey, and a press conference, and _Domingo_. 

He can’t meet Jeffrey’s eyes when Domingo steps forward, speaking into the microphone and showering him with false praises. Craig’s chest aches and he spends the next hour in the bathroom attached to his office, vomiting up blood stained daffodils and ignoring Domingo’s knocking. 

The other man eyes him when he exits, but Craig shrugs it off, sitting behind his desk and shuffling around papers. 

“How-”

“Don’t say it.” Craig cuts him off sharply, gesturing to a seat with a wave of his hand. “Don’t. Just- Just sit there in case anyone comes in.”

Domingo rolls his eyes and sighs, picking up a magazine and crossing his legs. “It’s not the end of the world you know, the surgery exists for a reason.”

“We’re not talking about this, so lose the attitude Domingo.”

The afternoon is quiet, and Craig has never been so thankful for the silence. No one stops by, not Frankie, not Jeffrey, and he’s never been more thankful for anything in his life. 

“Are you done yet?” 

Craig snaps his head up to look at Domingo, confusion present on his face. 

“It’s almost 6, we should go.”

“Go? Where?” His voice comes out as a sharp whine and he blushes, awkwardly clearing his throat. 

“Back to your apartment.” The other man raises an eyebrow and stares at Craig. “I’m starving and you can’t spend the night here. And we have to keep up appearances now, don’t we?”

“Oh, um, yes. Let’s go.” Craig fumbles around with the papers on his desk before standing and grabbing his keys and coat. “We can pick something up on the way.”

Thankfully they don’t run into anyone on their way out. Domingo opens the passenger door for Craig, before sliding into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. They’re back at his condo before Craig knows it, and Domingo is guiding him inside. 

“I thought you wanted dinner?”

The other man shrugs as Craig unlocks his door. “I’ll order us something.”

Craig nods and heads into his bedroom to change, resting his hand on the wall that he shares with Jeffrey’s condo. It’s quiet, too quiet, and it makes his chest ache terribly. There’s a rose on the floor before he knows what’s happening, the thorns scratching his throat. Craig closes his eyes in resignation, leaning his head against the wall. Loving Jeffrey really will kill him. 

\-- -- -- -- -- --

He’s not going to survive this RV trip. Thankfully he’s sequestered in the back, avoiding everyone’s gaze and attempting to concentrate on needlepoint. Jeffrey’s glaring at him and all Craig wants is to take his giant hand and go home. 

It’s just his luck they run out of gas. 

His chest tightens as Jeffrey yells at him, and he can’t breathe. Thankfully the door is right behind him and he makes his escape into the night. It’s bitterly cold, but Craig doesn’t mind as he climbs up the ladder and sits carefully on the hand. _His beautiful giant hand._

The pressure on his chest is increasing until he’s doubled over and coughing, choking on the flowers as they land on the roof of the RV. This time they’re dandelions. 

He’s trying to catch his breath and can’t hear anything over the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. 

“Hanahaki.” 

Craig freezes at the sound of Abed’s voice. The film student sits down next to him, nodding at the blood speckled flowers. “You have it.”

“I do.” His voice is hoarse as he glances over at the other man. 

“The others, do they know?” 

Craig shakes his head and leans his head back against the hand. “You can’t tell them.”

“Jeff?”

“What do you think?” He sighs, letting his eyes flutter shut. 

There’s an ominous creaking and he bolts upright, panicking as he stares at Abed. The film student is rambling on and on about ‘extra thick straps’ and how this shouldn’t be happening. 

He falls with a scream, scrambling to his feet and out of the way as the hand crashes to the ground where he was a second ago. He wants to go home. 

\-- -- -- -- -- --

There’s paint on his suit, and the adrenaline rush from the evening is slowly starting to wear off. He’s honestly surprised he made it through the night. Craig rubs his chest and winces, being alone with Jeffrey is not helping his condition. 

All he wants to do is take off this suit and climb into a steaming hot bath. He coughs and looks unsurprised at the rose petal in his palm. That bath is sounding better and better. 

There’s a knock at his door, and Craig jumps at the sound. He’s not expecting anyone, not at this time of night anyway. There’s another knock and he clambers off the couch and onto his feet, trudging over wearily to answer the door. 

“Jeffrey.” His breath catches in his throat at the sight of the handsome ex-lawyer standing on his doorstep, still in his suit splattered with paint. He steps aside to let Jeffrey in, closing the door behind him. 

“Abed said you were sick.” 

“I’m fine.” The lie slips out with practiced ease. 

“So you’re not dying then.” Jeffrey’s voice is dry and sarcastic, and his chest aches at the sound. His breath hitches as Jeff takes a step closer to him, trapping him between his body and the door. 

He’s too close. He can smell his cologne, expensive and musky. Craig lets out a soft moan as he breathes it in, letting it fill his lungs. His head spins and flowers are entering his mouth. He pushes past Jeffrey desperately, leaning over the sink as he coughs and heaves. 

The sink is filled with flowers. He can’t breathe. 

“Jesus, Craig!” 

Craig wipes his mouth, straightening and looks at the taller man. “What do you want, Jeffrey?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Tell me?” 

Craig coughs again, looking at the black dahlia in the palm of his hand. “There’s nothing you can do.” 

Jeffrey lets out a sound of indignation and steps into his space. His hand covers Craig’s and the smaller man looks up at him. 

Jeffrey’s lips are on his before he knows what’s happening. The kiss is gentle, and Jeffrey’s lips are soft and warm against his. One of Jeffrey’s hands encircles his waist and the other comes up to cup his jaw. His chest aches and he feels the flowers creeping up his throat. 

Jeffrey pulls away, his thumb gently stroking Craig’s jaw. “How long?” 

He doesn’t meet Jeffrey’s eyes as he answers. “Years. It’s been years.”

“Jesus Craig.” Jeffrey sounds resigned at the answer, and Craig closes his eyes. He knew it was too good to be true. 

He shrugs in lieu of an answer and coughs again. Another black dahlia. All he tastes is blood and soil. His chest is uncomfortably tight, lungs aching as he breathes. 

“It’s okay Jeffrey. I know you don’t feel the same.”

Jeffrey’s lips are pressed against his as he finishes speaking, and he’s pulled against a firm body. Jeffrey’s tongue traces over his lower lip, and he sighs into the kiss, head spinning. 

“I stayed at Greendale for you, you can’t leave me now.” The ex-lawyers words are quiet, whispered against his skin as he presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Craig swallows hard and pulls back, his hands pressing against a solid chest, so he can meet Jeffrey’s gaze. The law professor’s eyes are soft but uncertain as he looks down at him. He nods and fiddles with the lapels of Jeffrey’s suit. 

His voice is hoarse as he answers. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
